Pretty Sort of Love
by QueenSchnee
Summary: What Emerald and Cinder have isn't a pretty sort of love, but Emerald's willing to believe the farce (one-sided emerald/cinder and implied sexual content)


Despite what Mercury might say, Emerald Sustrai was not an idiot. Vindictive, rude, and underhanded, yes. But an idiot? No, she was far from it.

And yet- she sighs as she brushed her messy bangs back from her face- there are times when she acts like one. Times when, despite knowing better, she throws caution- and good judgement- to the wind and just… indulges.

Like now.

Bright red eyes flicker over to Cinder's back, tracing the smooth curve of Cinder Fall's spine- counting the scars that are too faint to be seen from a distance. Despite their previous… activities there doesn't seem to be even a single hair out of place on Cinder's head and she moves with her usual cat-like elegance as she gets dressed again.

Emerald, as she looks away, thinks that she hates Cinder. Just a little.

She hates how unaffected Cinder was by this- by her, despite Emerald never being able to say the same. Hates how the only time Cinder's golden eyes seem to glow is when she's clutching power in the palm of her hands, rather than when Emerald's trying her hardest to please her. She hates the dangerous drag of Cinder's nails down her sides, threatening to pierce her and draw blood, and the curl of her voice that promises three parts pain for every one part pleasure. She hates so much of her.

But she loves her as well.

It's not a pretty sort of love. Definitely not a nice one either. Pretty love doesn't make a person commit murder. Pretty love isn't ties around your wrists and fingers around your throat because your lover craves dominance and control more than they could ever want you; not that they would ever care to try. Pretty love isn't such an angry, manipulative thing.

Because despite Mercury thinking that she's an idiot for doing all of this, she already knows that Cinder doesn't- that she couldn't- ever love her. And Emerald honestly doesn't know that she'd ever want her to.

She doesn't know what sort of person Cinder used to be- if there was ever a time when Cinder had looked at someone else as a person first, rather than a tool or a means to an end- but she knows Cinder now; a beautiful woman who could have her screaming in pleasure one moment and crying out in pain the next. Someone who took and took, and took some more, without ever giving back, because giving showed weakness, and Cinder Fall was never weak.

She was like the flames that she manipulated. Dangerous and burning and all consuming.

Emerald sits up in the bed, in a room that's stifling hot and smells like sex, and ignores the ache between her legs. The ache that's in her chest is a little harder to ignore, but she represses it all the same. When she looks back at Cinder, the other woman has her head turned to the side so that Emerald can see her sharp profile, and the golden eye trained on her.

Watching her. Taking her apart at the seams. Emerald has a vague idea of what Cinder might see- of what sort of tool Cinder might be able to mold her into. And she finds that she doesn't care much.

Whatever Cinder wants her to do, she'll do. Whatever she wants to take from her, Emerald will give it freely. She's been a puppet for Cinder ever since the other woman found her in that alleyway, and that's the part she'll play until Cinder decides that it's time to sever her strings.

Emerald drops her gaze after a few seconds because she's learned to not stare Cinder in the eye, and she's surprised when she feels Cinder's fingers slide under her chin. Cinder tilts her chin up, sharp nails digging into Emerald's chin just enough to hurt, before smirking down at her. When Cinder leans down and presses a kiss to her lips, Emerald just closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy it. She knows that Cinder doesn't feel anything for her, but for a few seconds she lets herself believe. When Cinder pulls away and tells her that they're leaving, Emerald opens her eyes again and says,

"Yes Cinder."

She's not an idiot, and this isn't a pretty sort of love.

But for a few seconds she'll let herself believe the farce.

* * *

although it's probably really messed up, i really do like one-sided emerald/cinder~


End file.
